


omega Geno smut

by sevenfists



Series: Sid/Geno Tumblr ficlets [7]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfists/pseuds/sevenfists
Summary: Geno was in pre-heat when he showed up at the rink: Sid could smell it on him. Geno swanned into the locker room with his head held high, kind of glowing with self-satisfaction, and smelling ripe with it, right on the edge of tipping over.





	omega Geno smut

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: omega Geno and Sid tripping over himself trying not to be a creep and That Alpha, but also being really, really into Geno's everything. This is kind of that? If you squint?

Geno was in pre-heat when he showed up at the rink: Sid could smell it on him. Geno swanned into the locker room with his head held high, kind of glowing with self-satisfaction, and smelling ripe with it, right on the edge of tipping over.

“Jesus Christ, Malkin,” Nealer said, waving a hand in front of his face, and Geno smirked and flipped him off.

Like Nealer had any room to talk. He had spent more than one of Geno’s heats in Geno’s bed.

“You need company, G?” Nisky called out.

Geno settled at his stall, smug as a king. “Not you, Nisky. You lonely? Too bad.”

“You liked it well enough last time,” Nisky said, grabbing at his crotch.

Geno rolled his eyes and shook his head. He smelled like everything, all of the best things, everything Sid wanted, and Sid dragged his attention back to his skates. Geno was interested in every other alpha on the team, but never in Sid.

Practice was a little bit of a mess, the way it always was when Geno was going into heat. He really should have just stayed home, but he always pretended not to understand when someone suggested it. Nisky and Nealer and most of the other alphas kept trying to flirt, skating close to Geno and maybe tugging on his jersey if he didn’t smack them away with his stick. Even Duper looked a little distracted.

“Really?” Sid said to him.

“Well,” Duper said, and shrugged. “You know.”

Yeah, he knew. Sid was pretty fucking distracted, himself.

Geno got naked in the locker room after practice, stripping out of his pads and base layers and leisurely strolling around to toss his tape in the trash. A wet gleam shone on his inner thighs. The scent was overpowering. Geno seemed to like showing off like this, making everyone watch him and want him, and Sid had to talk to the fucking media and try not to get an erection while Geno wandered around behind the cameras. It was impossible. He left his cup on for camouflage. Geno was a sight for sore eyes at all times, and this close to heat, smelling like that, already slicked up and letting everyone get a look, he was basically irresistible.

Ignoring him never got any easier. Geno went into heat twice a year, autumn and spring. He enjoyed it. He never sweated out a heat alone. He was shameless about it, and that had caused some trouble in the room when he first joined the team, but everyone was used to him by now. Geno was a law unto himself. 

Finally Geno went out into the hallway, still wearing nothing but his slides. The hot ache of want in Sid’s gut ebbed slightly. He answered a question about the power play. He could still taste Geno’s scent at the back of his mouth. Well, it was always frustrating, but he would go home and jerk off, and he wouldn’t see Geno again until the heat was over and Geno was back to more mundane levels of tempting.

He went to shower when he was done doing press. There was no sign of Geno in the change room, and Sid relaxed a little. But Beau was at the sinks, doing something with his hair, and he tilted his head toward the door to the showers and said, “G’s still in there, so uh, brace yourself, I guess.”

Sid seriously considered changing into his street clothes and going home to shower. He hated doing that, though. He smelled terrible. He would just—shower fast and get it over with.

“Thanks,” he said, and pushed open the door.

Geno was in the far corner, luxuriating beneath the hot spray. The water diluted but didn’t erase his scent. Sid breathed in through his mouth, which didn’t help much.

“Bad this time, huh,” said Suttsy, who was busily washing his hair and seemed totally unaffected by anything Geno was doing.

Fucking betas. “It’s fine,” Sid said. It was always bad.

He took the shower head next to Suttsy’s, to give himself the maximum possible distance from Geno. He couldn’t figure out why Geno was still here. From the smell of him, full heat wasn’t far off. He was cutting it close. Geno liked the attention, but going full-blown in public would get him more attention than even he probably wanted.

“Good luck,” Suttsy said after a minute, shut off the water, and shook his hair out like a dog.

Sid wanted to beg him to stay and not leave him alone with Geno. But that was ridiculous. He was an adult. He could control himself.

He scrubbed a little faster.

He heard Geno’s shower cut off, and Geno’s slides slapping against the floor. He wasn’t going to look. He wasn’t going to look. He saw Geno naked all the time. There was nothing interesting about it. He wasn’t—

He turned and stared as Geno went by. Geno’s heavy cock swayed between his legs, not hard yet but thinking about it. He was flushed everywhere, and he smelled—incredible, unbelievable, and Sid knew he was wet, he was opening up already, and soon it would be so easy to bend him over and—

Geno stopped. He looked at Sid. His pupils were dilated. His scent flared, rich with arousal and—fertility—

Oh, God. Sid turned back into the spray and let the water pound down on his hot face. 

“Sid,” Geno said. “Look at me.”

Sid was helpless to resist the soft promise in Geno’s voice. He turned again. Everything about Geno’s body language had changed. His shoulders were rounded forward, his eyebrows drawn up. He looked so unsure, and Sid reached for him before he could stop himself, and Geno came forward into his arms.

It was too much right away. Sid pushed his face into Geno’s neck and inhaled, taking in his scent. Geno was shaking a little. Sid fought through the sudden body-slam of hormones and said, “We shouldn’t—”

“Come home with me,” Geno said. He clutched at Sid’s back. “For heat. Do heat with me.”

Sid breathed it in: the smell of Geno wanting him. Then he shook Geno off and stepped back. “I can’t. I know you like to—but I can’t do, uh. Casual.”

“It’s not,” Geno said. “With you, never.” He shifted closer. “Please, Sid.” He hunched his shoulders more, asking with his body as well as with his words. 

He would say anything right now, probably, to get what he wanted. But this was the first time Sid had ever been what he wanted.

“Go get dressed,” Sid said, and reached out to turn off the water.

He drove, and Geno sat in his passenger seat and touched himself through his pants, probably partly to be a tease but also, Sid thought, because he was approaching the point where he couldn’t help himself. His scent kept changing, growing more complex.

“Oh, God,” Geno muttered, squirming around in his seat, and Sid pressed a little harder on the accelerator. 

Geno hadn’t quite peaked by the time Sid pulled into the driveway, but he was close enough that there was no more time for uncertainty or negotiation. Geno dragged Sid up the stairs to his bedroom. The bed was unmade, and the whole room smelled like Geno and the faint sharp scent of pre-heat.

“Please, come here, please,” Geno said, and went down on his hands and knees on the bed. He reached back and shoved down his sweatpants just far enough to bare his ass and the slick mess of his hole, pink and shiny and soft with heat. His thighs and balls were smeared with it. The smell was so strong and so good, Geno’s body responding to Sid’s in every way. 

Sid was right there with him by now, caught up in his own responses. He had wanted this for his entire life, it felt like. He still remembered Geno’s first heat with the team, a month into his rookie season, and the way the constant background noise of his attraction had exploded into massive, undeniable longing. He had hoped, maybe—but Geno had gone home with Rex, and hadn’t looked in Sid’s direction even once.

He knelt behind Geno and took himself out of his pants. He was rock-hard. His hands were trembling. He lined up and rubbed the head of his dick against Geno’s hole, loving what it did to Geno’s scent, and the way Geno groaned and rocked his hips, begging for more.

“Please, I need,” Geno said, and his heat-scent bloomed at last, unmistakable.

Sid pressed forward into him until he bottomed out.

Geno moaned like Sid’s dick had pushed the noise out of him, a long, pleased sound that filled Sid with fierce instinctive pride. Geno sounded like that because of _him_. Geno had chosen him. 

He rolled his hips experimentally. The tight, hot drag around his dick felt incredible. There was no room for finesse here. Geno was making a steady stream of noises, and between that and the smell and the feel and the years of wanting, Sid knew he wouldn’t be able to hold off. He pulled out and shoved back in, already so close to the edge, his hands tight on Geno’s hips to hold him in place for Sid to fuck into. Geno’s scent was full of happiness and lust and enjoyment, and Sid couldn’t imagine how anyone could do this with Geno once without wanting it again and again.

Geno was cursing in Russian, rocking back into each thrust, flushed all down his back, his hair curling damp at his nape, so eager for it, even louder and more enthusiastic than Sid had thought he might be. Sid had gone through heat with omegas before, and it had been great, but Geno’s shameless enjoyment was way more than he had bargained for.

“Yes, yes,” Geno chanted, tensing up, and Sid managed one more deep thrust before Geno came trembling on his dick.

“ _Shit_ ,” Sid said, “G, I need,” because there was no way he could stop now. His orgasm was barreling toward him, and he didn’t want to fight it, he wanted to make Geno take his knot.

“Do it, yes,” Geno said, panting, and Sid pulled him back hard and felt his knot swell, and his fingers dug into the flesh of Geno’s hips as he unloaded into the wet heat of Geno’s ass.

They collapsed onto the bed, tied together. “Holy shit,” Sid said.

Geno moaned and arched his back, trying to push back onto Sid’s knot. He needed to come again, and Sid wanted to give him everything, anything he wanted for as long as he wanted it. Sid rolled them carefully onto their sides, his knot still fat in Geno’s ass, and got his hand on Geno’s swollen dick. Geno was still hard, probably hadn’t softened up at all after he came. 

“Shh, I got you,” he said, and kissed the back of Geno’s neck as Geno shifted restlessly on Sid’s knot. He teased his fingers over the leaking head of Geno’s dick, his gut clenching victoriously at the desperate sound Geno made. 

“Please,” Geno cried, arching more. He couldn’t thrust forward into Sid’s hand, stuck where he was on Sid’s knot. He needed Sid to take care of him—he needed Sid there with him, to make it good for him.

“You feel so good on my dick,” he murmured into Geno’s skin, “I got you, shh, I’ll make you come,” and he worked his hand over Geno’s cock in a few rough strokes until Geno shuddered through another orgasm.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Geno said, clamping down on Sid’s sensitive knot, twisting in Sid’s arms.

He was still hard. “I think you need one more,” Sid said, his hand slick now with Geno’s come, an easy glide when he dragged it along the shaft.

“No,” Geno moaned.

Sid froze. “Do you—”

“No, keep,” Geno said, bringing his hand down to cover Sid’s. “I need, it’s just—”

Sid relaxed, and squeezed Geno’s cock gently. “It’s a lot, huh?” He nosed at the back of Geno’s ear. Geno smelled happy and horny, with no traces of anxiety anywhere, just a sweet open pleasurable wallow.

“So much,” Geno agreed, and held on to Sid’s wrist loosely as Sid brought him off again, a close familiar touch, his thumb brushing over the tender base of Sid’s palm. It was only instinct. It was hormones. He was happy to have someone there with him. Sid could have been anyone, any alpha.

Geno went soft, finally, after his third orgasm, just as Sid’s knot went down too much to stay inside. Geno’s scent mellowed out a little, settling into a lull. They had some time, now.

Sid pulled out and eased Geno onto his back. “How was that?”

Geno smiled up at him, flushed and sweaty and dazed with heat. Sid’s heart did a slow cartwheel in his chest. This was one of the worst ideas he’d ever had.

“You hungry?” he asked, because if he kept looking at Geno he was going to say something he couldn’t take back.

“Mm,” Geno said. He rolled over onto his belly, showing Sid the perfect curve of his ass. The waistband of his sweatpants cut across his thighs. “There’s box in kitchen, on table. Good things to eat.”

“I’ll be right back,” Sid said, and climbed off the bed. The front of his pants was soaked through with Geno’s slick. He shoved them off, and got rid of his shirt while he was at it, and went downstairs.

The box was easy enough to find: a plastic bin about the size of two shoe boxes, filled with heat supplies: protein bars, dried fruit, bottled water. Sid ate one of the bars and shoved a few handfuls of dried cranberries in his mouth, and took a few minutes to drink a bottle of water and mop at his crotch with a damp paper towel. He needed those minutes to tuck his feelings away, securely folded inside where they belonged. This was only sex, to Geno. They wouldn’t do it again.

When he felt like he had himself under control, he took the box and went back upstairs.

Geno had taken off his sweatpants and was on his back again, his T-shirt rucked up to show his belly, soft and smooth. He had a hand hooked under one knee, pulling his leg toward his chest, and he was rubbing at his hole with his other hand. He looked over when Sid came into the room and tipped his chin up in a wordless plea. 

Sid stopped in the doorway and watched him for a moment, feeling his dick start to fill again. The room stunk of Geno’s heat. Sid wanted to bury his face between Geno’s legs and never leave.

“Sid, please,” Geno said, going over onto all fours, spreading his knees wide, his chest on the mattress and his ass up in the air.

“You need to eat,” Sid said weakly, but he dropped the box on the nightstand and scrambled back onto the bed.

“Please,” Geno was saying, “please, please,” and then his words trailed off into a moan as Sid pushed back in.

This time he managed to hold off long enough to make Geno come twice before he knotted. In the lull, Geno was limp and pliant, spooned against Sid’s front, content to clench around Sid’s knot from time to time but otherwise lie there and let Sid nose at his hairline.

“You should eat something,” Sid suggested.

Geno grunted, but he stretched out and grabbed a protein bar from the box. He opened the wrapper and put the bar in Sid’s hand. “Feed me.”

Sid rolled his eyes, but he held the bar to Geno’s mouth and let him take bites of it, and somehow that was exactly what he needed: to be allowed to take care of Geno in that way.

“Mm, good,” Geno said when he was done, and Sid tossed the wrapper on the floor. Geno clenched again around Sid’s softening knot and shivered. Sid reached around. Geno was still soft; they had a few more minutes, at least.

“You want some water?” he asked. He pulled out at last, messy with come and slick, and sat up. Geno crawled away from him and flopped onto his back. They were both going to get dehydrated. He couldn’t look away from Geno’s limp dick, flushed and sticky.

“Come here,” Geno said, reaching up, and Sid went without really understanding what Geno was asking for until it was too late, and Geno was sliding both hands into Sid’s hair and tugging him in for a kiss.

Sid’s breath stopped. He didn’t move or react as Geno kissed him. Geno pulled back and whispered his name, his lips brushing the corner of Sid’s mouth, and finally Sid had arrived at what he couldn’t take.

He sat up. “Geno, I thought, uh. You’ve never been interested in me before, so. I don’t really know what’s going on here.”

Geno blinked at him. “What?”

“You know what,” Sid said. “I’ll do this with you, but—you can’t act like it’s more than just. Heat.”

“Why not?” Geno demanded. “You think I’m not interest?”

“I told you I can’t do casual,” Sid said. The look on Geno’s face was physically painful: soft, bewildered.

“It’s not casual,” Geno said. “ _I_ think _you_ never want—”

“You thought I didn’t _want_ you?” Sid said incredulously.

Geno raised his eyebrows. “You don’t look. Don’t talk, like other guys. So I think you don’t want.”

“The other guys are _animals_ ,” Sid said. “I’m trying to be a—I’m trying not to act like a fucking creep.”

“You smell like you want, but you don’t look,” Geno said. “But today you look in showers, so then I think, maybe.” He smiled at Sid, and reached up to touch his cheek. “Maybe we both wrong.”

“I look,” Sid said. “I always look. You want everyone to look at you.”

“I like,” Geno said, and stretched his arms above his head, showing off now just for Sid, an enraptured audience of one. “Maybe you take me for dinner,” he said, “when heat’s done,” and then looked away, shifting from seductive to shy in an instant.

An old, unacknowledged pain in Sid’s chest thawed a little. “Like a date?”

“Yes,” Geno said. He wouldn’t look at Sid, but he smelled like Christmas.

“We can do that,” Sid said. He lay down cautiously and pressed a tentative kiss against Geno’s jaw.

Geno rolled toward him at once and wrapped himself around Sid like an octopus. “You smell happy,” he said, and this time, when he kissed Sid, Sid kissed him back.


End file.
